The Illusion of the Girl Off the Streets
by Glitz Kelly
Summary: As normal, Jack Kelly rescues a girl off the street--but he doesn't know exactly what she's doing on the street till after she's made home in the boarding house!
1. Your Typical Genteel Rescue

Jack Kelly, infamous strike leader and head newsie of the Manhattan gang, was coming home from a busy day of selling papers. What he wanted to do most right then, at dusk, was hear the voices of his other fellow newsies, play some cards, drink a little, sleep…Any combination of those activities would've suited him right then. What really _did _happen was not like any of those things; in fact, quite the opposite. But what did happen would have an affect on all of his evenings in the future—but he really didn't know that.

Two blocks away from the newsie boarding house, one block from Tibby's (the infamous restaurant of choice for newsies), and five minutes away from solitude, Jack heard a voice. Two voices. Angry voices.

"You owe me money!" That would be the first voice, female, distraught, and on the verge of angry tears.

"I don't know you anything!" The second voice, male, very angry, and adding in an assortment of degrading names at various moments…and also sounding extremely like a Delancey brother.

Jack glanced in the direction of the voices and spied an open window. Sure enough, Oscar Delancey was propped up in a chair, whiskey bottle in hand, leering at a young lady who was standing a few feet away from him. The sight of Oscar alone was enough to make irritation boil through Jack's blood, but when the accursed boy stood up and advanced threateningly towards the girl, instinct took over Jack. Jack rushed through the door of the building, following the sound of a chair scraping and the girl's voice, growing more hysterical by the second. "Oh, don't! Please! Don't do this! You lousy jerk…we made a deal! Don't touch me! Don't you _dare_ lay a hand on me! Somebody help!"

Finding the room where the angry yet pitiful cries were coming from, Jack saw that Oscar now had the girl by the wrist. The girl, whose dress was ripped as if she'd already been in a scuffle that evening, struggled and even seemed to give Oscar a little bit of trouble. However, Oscar was much bigger than the girl and he easily subdued her. He pushed her down on the chair where he had sat a moment earlier. Before Jack could react, Oscar tensed and punched the girl in the face.

Something inside of Jack snapped, and he leaped inside of the room, making Oscar's second punch just glance off of the girl's shoulder. "You know something, Delancey? You should pick your fights better," he panted angrily as he repeatedly hit the offending boy. The streets of Manhattan hadn't been tamed by Jack Kelly for nothing. Oscar only had enough time between hits to kick his legs out a few times, the second time finally catching Jack in his ribcage. Jack grunted and stepped back, satisfied with the last punch, which had left blood leaking from the side of Oscar's lip. 

Now Jack turned his attention to the girl. She looked woozily at Jack for a minute, smiled feebly, and then passed out. Jack staggered over to her, trying to take a normal breath, and examined where Oscar had hit her. _How dare he lay a hand on a girl…_Jack tiredly but tenderly lifted her in his arms and began to carry her to the boarding house. What else could he do?

He made the trip as quick as he could without jarring the girl too much, wondering why he had ended up playing Superman this evening. Kicking the door to the boarding house open, he stepped inside, making much more of a dramatic entrance than he had ever intended. The boys in the room fell silent, the card dealers stopped dealing, and even the boys trying to hide the liquor bottles on the back put their drinks down. Finally Racetrack, the oh-so-blunt newsie, blurted out, "Hey, Jackie-boy…it's a _girl_!"

Now that the obvious had been stated, Jack motioned for one of the boys to give up his seat. He put the girl down, stepped back, and then jumped forward again as she started to slump out of the chair. Crutchy, familiar with illnesses (as he had witnessed as he was in and out of children's sick homes), offered Jack some sound advice. "She needs to lie down. And get rid of that contraption that's holdin' her lungs back." The boys, still silent, looked at Jack, each wanting to know how he had gotten this girl, why she was unconscious, but most of all, how she had gotten a black eye. 

Jack once again lifted her up and turned toward the stairs. As he reached the first step, he turned around and said, "No questions asked now…I'll explain when I get back down here." With that said, Jack turned and carried the girl up the stairs. He decided that the best place for her would be his room, since he didn't have to share with any of the other boys, and had a private bathroom. He made sure to keep the rooms around his empty also, if possible. At that given time, the room directly to the left of his was empty, and he could sleep there till the girl recovered. It didn't really matter. Jack just liked to be separate.

Shifting the girl's weight to the other arm, Jack twisted his door open and crossed the room to the bed. He was better at this caring gentleman thing than he originally supposed, he thought as he gently deposited her on the bed. He went into the bathroom to get a wet rag to place on her eye, but when he came back, she was wheezing. He realized he needed to get her out of whatever contraption she was wearing.

Gently flipping her over so he could get to her back, he undid her dress (which, he was sure, was once a gorgeous red satin) and revealed an old-fashioned corset. _I thought women didn't wear these anymore_…

Jack pulled the dress off of her, and began to undo the laces, which held the girl's lungs in and were preventing her from breathing normally. At first the strings just became jumbled knots in his unskilled hands, but finally he got the hang of what he was doing and unlaced the rigid undergarment. As her bare back was revealed, Jack was quite shocked to see that she had a tattoo. It arced over the bottom of her back, deep purple letters in her skin, that said one word. 'Glitz.'

Not stopping to think about what the word could stand for, Jack made sure she was decently covered and hidden from his eyes, and then gently flipped her back over to her back. He gently placed the wet rag on top of her swollen eye, and backed out of the room. 


	2. One of those Rude Awakenings

*glomps Sapphy* My first review _ever_!! You're the greatest!! 

Oh yeah, and forgot to do this on the first one…I don't own Newsies…I do own Glitz.

__

Thump.

Splash.

"Get your elbow outta' my face!"

These sounds, along with other sounds that young teenage boys normally make in the morning, were the sounds that Glitz woke up to. She rolled over and kicked the thin sheet covering her up off, and sat up. 

So relieved was she at the fact that she hadn't slept all night in her corset that she didn't even question who had taken the privilege of unlacing it for her. No, the only concern of hers was to find the corset. It wasn't a hard task, the corset was waiting for her on a chair in the corner of the room. She stood up and made her way to the chair, picking the undergarment up and pondering just how she would get it back on alone. A note fluttered away—apparently it had been tucked under the corset on the chair. She picked it up and read:

_Hope your eye's better. You just don't make money deals with those Delanceys, we hope you know better now. Anyways—here's the deal. You support yourself, you're welcome to stay here as long as you need to. Special invitation, from us to you. _

Come get to know us. We all eat lunch at Tibby's.

-Jack & the Manhattan newsies

Racetrack Higgins had poetically crafted the note, Crutchy had penned the note (he being the only newsie who had gotten higher than an unacceptable in any school in penmanship), and Mush, the gentleman himself, had artfully tucked it under that 'insane contraption' of an undergarment, all three with one common goal—get the girl to stay.

After Jack had come back downstairs, it was clear to everyone in the building that he wanted the girl gone the next day. "Girls don't live in this establishment. You want girl company, you find one, you bring her here long enough for whatever you do, and then the girl leaves. Escort her if you want, or just send her out. They don't live here."

Kid Blink started to whine, "But Brooklyn's got a couple of girls…" but was silenced when Jack gave him a famous stare. All was silent for a moment till finally a smatter of regular newsboy ruckus broke out again, and Jack turned and sat down. 

Out of Jack's hearing range, Race muttered, "You'd think girls made him nervous or somethin'."

Crutchy heard Race and leaned in to say, "You don't think he'd make her leave if she wanted to stay, would he?"

Race just grinned. "There's only one way to find out—we gotta make her want to stay—and make her think that Jack wants her to stay."

The cunning, plotting group of newsies saw nothing wrong with signing Jack's name on a note that was, mostly on the whole, from the Manhattan newsies, as he was their 'noble leader'. "After all," argued Race, "Manhattan without Jack is kind of like…like a cat without a tail. Like a card game without betting. Like a newsie from Brooklyn without an insane ego."

And so, the note was signed, '_Jack & the Manhattan newsies'._

Glitz crumpled the note up in her hand. "Special treatment for being a girl…" she muttered. She looked at the corset she held in her other hand, sighed, opened the door, and chucked it down the hall. "I don't need this thing…the dress is fine enough without it."

She looked at the tragic dress. The bottom was caked with dirt, the bodice of the dress was dismally fitted to her curvy shape, and she didn't care for the bright red. She would've rather had a deep, dark red, or a rich plum…but, you couldn't be that choosy when rummaging through an old costume chest, could you?

Glitz was a girl of curves and roundness. She didn't have the scrawny street look about her, of eating small meals and working. Instead, she had the plump Greek goddess shape—or the figure of a woman who one could easily imagine being a mother and running a home, including the hips, shoulders, and overall strength. Her hair was a common dark brown, with the usual blond sun streaks in. Her eyes were not as common as her shape or hair, however—they were the same rich plum color of the dress that she desired. She wasn't exceptionally pretty, but she was one of those people who could captivate a crowd with just a few casual sentences. 

Right now, however, she didn't feel very captivating. "I _don't_ want to put on that dress," she muttered. "But…I suppose I have to, but that doesn't mean I can't get a new one!"

She checked to make sure her stash of money from the past week's work was still tucked in a pocket on the inside of the bottom of the skirt. She was relieved to find all the money was still there, and after that, putting on the dress wasn't such a grim aspect. She slid it on, laced the back up, and started to make her way down the hall—till she spotted a washing room. She figured there would be a mirror in there.

"Oh, my God!" her hands flew to her face when she saw her puffy eye. "I don't remember that."

The rational side took over quickly, however. She realized there was nothing to be done, so she would just have to wait for it to go away. She splashed water on her face while she was at the sink, and then turned and flounced out of the room. Flouncing was something she was good at, even if there was no one else around to enjoy it.


	3. She's Got Charisma

A.N.: _Oh, yeah, guys…remember…Newsies was a musical? My story's a musical. But none of the songs belong to me._

Jack tucked the last coins into his pocket, thanking the lady that had bought his last paper—his _real_ last paper; he didn't have to resort to pity theatrics to sell papers. He then turned and walked down the street to Tibby's. As he approached, he was nearly run over by two well dressed young girls, who were storming away from the restaurant, murmuring to each other, "Of all the disgraceful hussies…aren't there laws against girls like her?"

He politely allowed them to pass, and continued on, wondering what the girls were complaining about. As he neared the door, he heard some of his fellow newsies cheering. He began to wonder just what was going on. He entered the establishment…

…and was greeted by the girl that he had rescued last night, clad in a new emerald green gown with a plunging neckline. She was parading around on top of the bar, singing. The owner of the place, who normally wouldn't allow such chaos, was just drying mugs and watching her serenely. Jack watched in disgust as he saw Race and Mush sitting at the bar (that in itself showed the owner's disillusionment—the newsies were never allowed to sit at the bar, as the owner wouldn't allow them to buy alcohol) staring dreamily at the girl. Jack stormed over and opened his mouth to fuss at them, when a soft hand landed on his shoulder.

He looked up into those plum eyes. "Hello, Jack," she purred, allowing a hint of a Southern accent (showing her Southern Virginia roots) to slip in. "The name's Glitz."

He wanted to yell at her, to tell her she needed to stop distracting his newsies—Race still had the morning's newspapers tucked under his arm—but when she smiled, he couldn't. The most he could do was prevent himself from smiling.

Glitz wanted desperately to repay Jack's 'kindness'. Racetrack, Mush, and Kid Blink were hoping that Glitz would win Jack over and be allowed to stay at the boarding house. Jack believed that Glitz was the Devil in female form trying to throw off his newsies.

Boy, they were a confused group.

To Glitz, though, her antics were innocent. She slid her hand from Jack's shoulder and offered it to him. He politely took it, and wasn't expecting it when she hurled herself into his arms and began singing.

__

I wanna be loved by you, just you

Nobody else but you

I wanna be loved by you alone

Boo-boo-be-doo!

Jack set her down as she warmed to the song, and she grabbed him in a clumsy waltz. He had no choice but to follow her.

__

I wanna be kissed by you, just you

Nobody else but you

I wanna kissed by you alone!

I couldn't aspire

To anything higher

Than to fill the desire

To make you my own

Ba-dum Ba-dum a doodly dum-oo!

Everyone watching chuckled at the sight: Glitz dramatically throwing her head back at her last 'oo' while Jack was desperately trying to make it look like he really _wasn't_ dancing in the middle of a restaurant.

__

I wanna be loved by you, just you

Nobody else but you!

I wanna be loved you alone!
    
    At this point, however, Glitz led Jack near to the bar and jumped on it again, and began a crazy dance, shaking her skirts in the faces of any male that was near enough. After the cheering died down, she got quiet for a minute, as if she were done with her song. Then, just when Jack had begun to relax, she jumped down into his arms again.
    

__

I couldn't aspire

To anything higher

Thank to fill the desire

To make you my own

Ba-dum ba-dum a doodly dum-oo!

I wanna be loved by you, just you

Nobody else but you!

I wanna be loved by you

Be-deedly-deedly-deedly dum!

Boo-boo-be-doo!

Glitz finished her song and released Jack. There were chuckles all around as Jack backed out the door, looking at Glitz like she had just poisoned him. Then Glitz perched on the bar and looked around. "So who wants to buy me another drink?"


	4. When All Else Fails, The Liquor Store St...

Yeeeaaah, yeeeaaaah, I know. I'm such a wench for not updating for so long. I hate myself.

Just kidding. Actually I love myself. We just all know the dreaded Writer's Block in fright Well, he kept me in a closet for QUITE A WHILE. At least in the land of Newsies.

_Then_...I got my own copy of the DVD, and converted all of my best friends and my boyfriend. Now they all burst into random bits of Newsies...wears newsies hat with pride So TAKE THAT, WRITER'S BLOCK! does a ferocious karate chop

And for anyone who cares about my personal achievements...I'm actually starting my first non-Mary Sue Newsies story! (They're just so _hard_ for me to write...I love my Mary eyes and hides as people throw tomatoes) So yeah. Look for that soon.

Anyways. Yeah, just felt I had to blab a little bit. And it was fun. And now, in the words of so many people from Monty Python & The Holy Grail..._Get on with it!!_

* * *

Back out on the street, Jack started walking. He didn't particularly know how to act; it wasn't every day a teenage boy had a beautiful girl leap into his arms and sing crazy love songs. He couldn't help but wonder why she had done it, but more importantly, he wondered if she'd ever do anything like that again.

All his papers gone and his appetite satiated by sheer confusion, Jack was at a loss when it came to how he was to spend his afternoon. He didn't understand why this girl was hanging around his newsies, and his head was starting to pound as he thought about it. He smirked, thinking that at least he would achieve his solace in Brooklyn that weekend: Spot was playing host to a highly competitive poker game that weekend, and Jack was aware that several of the younger newsies had been saving their extra pennies for weeks as to have some money to gamble with. This relief did not last long, however; he needed a little peace of mind right then before he exploded.

The solution came to him then, in the form of a faded and discreet sign—the sign for a liquor store which he had frequented during times of sorrow and depression. The door swung open before him as a respectable older man left the store, clutching a brown paper sack and grinning slightly. Seeing Jack, he stopped, tipped his hat, and held the door as Jack entered. "Thanks," Jack called to his retreating back. The cheerful figure waved in return.

"Ah, that Mr. Nate," cackled an old man from behind a deeply stained and cracked wooden counter. "Comes in here every Thursday...friendliest cranky old banker type fellow that ever came to this counter, and trust me, I've seen a lot of cranky old bankers!"

"Ted, haven't seen ya in a while!" Jack laughed, feeling a wave of affection wash over him for the old owner of the liquor store.

"I know, and the girls down the street always ask, 'When is that Cowboy fella' showin' up again, Ted?' and I says to 'em, I says, 'Ain't no tellin' with that kid—whenever there's trouble in his life, he'll come back!'. So the way I figure, somethin' must be wrong." Ted said all this without breaking eye contact, but after he was done, he turned around and selected a bottle of rum from the back wall. Setting it on the counter, he pushed it towards Jack.

Jack stepped forward to take the bottle. "You got me pegged, Ted," he sighed. "If only I didn't only drink when things got a little confusing...I might have a little bit more fun." 

Ted shook his head vehemently. "No, sir. It's good to see a man that saves his booze for when he needs it. Cheers!"

With a friendly salute, he motioned for Jack to take the bottle and headed into the back room. Jack shook his head and left several coins on the counter. Then, he took one swig of rum for the road, and tucked the bottle into his pocket.

* * *

Glitz hummed under her breath as she looked into her new mirror on the wall in 'her' room at the boarding house. It had been a successful day, in her eyes. She had managed to procure three new dresses for the price of two ("God bless easily wooed young male store clerks," she murmured), bought a mirror and a new blanket for her room, and had made friends with all of the newsies. Except for one...

Jack. She didn't understand. He saved her, wrote the note inviting her to stay, and then practically sprinted away when she attempted to flirt with him at Tibby's. She sighed and threw herself down on her bed.

Things were mostly quiet in the boarding house. The occasional giggle or thump could be heard, but the boys were settling down for the night. No one had seen Jack since lunch time, but no one was worried. Glitz rolled over and curled up into a tight ball, thinking about what she would do in the next few days if she couldn't woo Jack.

"I couldn't aspire..."

A loud, booming voice suddenly ripped through the building, singing her song from earlier that day...

"To anything higher..."

Glitz heard doors opening up and down the hall, as the boys tried to figure out who was singing at the top of their lungs...

"Than to fill the desire..."

She knew that voice—but from _where_?

"To make you my own..."

The loud voice stopped—at her doorway. She looked up and felt her eyebrow arch up as she took in the image of Jack Kelly, shirt half undone, hair disheveled, smirking slightly, holding a rum bottle in one hand and leaning against the door, singing.

"Jack?" she said quietly. She'd dealt with many a drunken man before, but each responded in different ways.

"You're in my bed," he said point blank.

In a little less than a split second, Glitz determined three battle plans:

--Close the door on him and deal with him when he was sober,

--Attempt to reason with him,

--OR, be friendly and flirtatious and attempt to woo him.

Shrugging and smiling, she figured nothing could be wrong with number three—it could be fun for both of them. Not to mention, it was what she was good at.

"Is there something wrong with that?" she asked innocently.

He laughed and came in the room. He swayed unsteadily on his feet, and Glitz jumped up and guided him to sit on the bed. Jack looked around for a minute, and then attempted to wipe the drunken grin off of his face as he looked at her.

"You know, Gliss," he slurred (she squirmed inside at the mispronunciation of her name), "You really can't be here. You'se a distraction to my newsies...and now you're in my bed. It's not good."

She stared back at him, attempting to see if actually meant what he said. He broke eye contact in a shy laughing manner, so Glitz attempted to place her hand on top of his.

He jumped as she touched him. "Don't!"

"Shh," she laughed as he looked petrified, and reached for his arm. Much to her surprise, he jumped up and headed for the door.

The door, unfortunately for Jack, had closed halfway as he had drunkenly stumbled into the room. He hit the edge of the door at an angle and collapsed, appearing to hit his face on a chair by the door on the way to the ground. "Ooph," he groaned, and rolled over.

Glitz gasped and jumped up. "Jack!" The name felt weird in her mouth, but she was concerned—any time drunk people started falling all over the place, she knew that injuries were likely.

Taking his face in her hands, she saw that he had indeed hit his eye on the corner of the chair on the way, and it was beginning to swell and blacken. "Careless boy," she muttered under her breath, and then stood and attempted to hoist Jack up with her. Unwillingly he stood, and was dragged over to the bed, where Glitz pushed him over and made him lie back. "Now be still," she instructed, and headed to the washroom to fetch a cool wet rag, just as Jack had done for her the night before.

When she returned, he was sitting up and looking around, as if the impact of his injury had sobered him up a little bit.

"I coulda done that myself," he said awkwardly, accepting the rag and placing it on his eye.

"As I could've escaped on my own last night," she returned, and both were silent for a moment. Then Jack once again pulled the rag off of his eye, and Glitz leaned in to inspect.

"I suspect you'll match me in the morning," she said after a minute.

"Your eyes are unusual," he responded.

Inwardly, she rolled her eyes. To Jack, however, she smiled and brushed a lock of hair out of his eyes.

Her touch seemed to bring back the drunken fool in him, and he reached up and clasped her hand in his. "So, Glitz..." _At least he got the name right_, Glitz thought, and looked at him.

"Since we're sharin' this bed...you might as well make yourself comfortable," Jack said. Glitz started to protest, but Jack pulled her down on the bed next to him forcefully and wrapped an arm around her.

_This will be so awkward in the morning_, she thought, _but escaping at this point in time is just not worth it. _With that thought, Glitz buried her face against his chest and tried to sleep.


End file.
